


Mac and Dennis's Last Five Years

by porterville



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, angsty hand holding, failed actor mac, smut author dennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porterville/pseuds/porterville
Summary: Mac and Dennis are in love, but their relationship is doomed. Told in the style of "The Last Five Years."





	1. Still Hurting

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self indulgent thing I've ever written, but here it is! If this is your first exposure to "The Last Five Years," I strongly recommend you listen to it before reading this fic. The movie is on Netflix, but I suggest the 2013 Off-Broadway recording. It's my favorite. 
> 
> The most important thing to know about this is the timeline. The chapters alternate between Mac and Dennis's POVs. Mac's story is told in reverse chronological order starting from the end of their relationship, and Dennis's is in chronological order starting with the beginning. They meet once in the middle. The chapters are based off of the titles of the songs, some more loosely than others. 
> 
> Another thing I want to stress is that I am NOT trying to depict a healthy relationship. While this fic will have fluffy moments, these guys are not okay. They're just very interesting. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it!

Present Day

 

_Run away, like it’s simple, like it’s right._

 

These days, Mac found it pretty easy to imagine the rest of his life going like this. It was the kind of easiness that came with resigned powerlessness, but it was better than struggling. It’s not like he wasn’t strong enough to keep fighting. Truthfully, he was just _tired._ So instead of arguing, he spent every day at Paddy’s. It used to make him happy, but now it just reminded him physically of how things used to be. Thank god for Dee and Charlie. Dee, who had grown on him slowly and gradually like moss, and Charlie, who he’d never be able to get rid of. He found comfort in their routines, choosing to wile away the day with them here than be anywhere else.

Until Dennis crashed through the door one day. Although they still lived together, and even slept in the same bed, he hadn’t seen him here in months. Dee bristled at his presence, leaning away from him, and Charlie looked like a bird ready to take flight. Dennis walked with purpose towards them, but stopped short when he saw Mac.

He tried to conjure up something nonchalant to say. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dennis said back, then turned away. “Dee, I want my shares back.”

“What?” Dee yelped. “No!”

“Dee, now’s not the time to be a bitch!”

Dee laughed at his mounting anger. “You want your shares so bad? Too bad, they’re mine! Go buy your own bar!”

Dennis’s hands shook, his eyes darted around the room - Mac knew he was about to start freaking out. He even made brief eye contact with Mac, who looked uselessly back at him. What could he do? Maybe if he had given _Mac_ his shares all those years ago instead of Dee, he could help him out.

He glared at the three of them, but Mac felt his scorching eyes especially keenly. “You’re all useless idiots,” he said through his teeth. He turned to leave, and that’s when Mac suddenly remembered that he had legs.

“Dennis!” Mac leaned against the front door, blocking him from exiting. “Where’re you going?”

Dennis breathed out harshly through his nose. “I’m going back to our apartment to work on my memoir.”

“Oh.” Mac knew he was being challenged, but he didn’t know what he could possibly give Dennis. He wished he could wipe his memory of the past few years and pretend they were fine. He wished he could take his hand and kiss him without it feeling strange. He wished he could make eye contact with him without feeling like he would catch on fire. “Do you need me to pick up anything on the way home?”

Some of Dennis’s anger dissolved, but it wasn’t replaced with anything Mac could discern. “Get out of my way.”

Mac slid to the side, and Dennis was gone. The remaining members of the gang all seemed to deflate with relief, but he knew they weren’t going to talk about this. It was more comforting to pretend.

—

When Mac was sixteen, he became the main drug dealer of the school after he told on the other main drug dealer. He never quite followed in his dad’s footsteps, because he never got up to dealing anything harder than pills, but one day his snitching came back to bite him. The previous main drug dealer’s cronies cornered him one day after school, each with a bat or a club, and beat the everloving shit out of him. It crossed his mind there that he might actually die, with nothing to show for it but a few hundred bucks and an embarrassing nickname.

He never wanted to be that afraid again, but he felt it creeping up on him as he walked to the apartment that night. It was less of a visceral fear and more of a learned helplessness that had reached its peak, but the intensity still settled in his chest. He had to grin and bear it, though. What was the alternative?

His heart drummed as he pushed open the door. He stopped in his tracks. “Holy shit, did we get robbed?” He shrugged off his coat and walked room to room. Everything but the furniture was gone, including Dennis. He should still be home, right? He started to dial 9-1-1 in a blind panic, and that’s when he saw the note.

An envelope, held to the fridge by a magnet, that plainly read _Mac_ on the cover. His heart sunk to his knees, but didn’t stop its breakneck speed. With shaking hands, he read the letter.

—

 _“No!”_ Mac yelled into the phone. “He said he only took his shit but he took half my shit too!”

Charlie screeched back, “It’s three goddamn o’clock in the morning-“

“Is he there? Did he go to your apartment?”

“No, dude!” Charlie said through a yawn. “Call me in the morning, man!”

 _“Fine,_ dick!” He took a long swig of beer, letting the empty bottle smash on the floor, and hung up. He immediately dialed Frank’s number.

“What the shit do you want?” Frank yelled, and he heard an angry squawk from Charlie in the background.

“Is Dennis there?” Mac asked, letting more of the desperation creep into his voice. Hell, it was just Frank. Instead of answering, though, he hung up.

Mac felt the anger rapidly leaving without something to yell at, and as it went he felt something else welling up in his chest. He huffed as he realized he’d have to call Dee, the last number in his phone.

She picked up after the third ring on the second call. _“What?”_

His breath hitched and he couldn’t talk.

“Is anyone there? God _dammit,_ Mac-“

“Dennis is gone,” he said. It wasn’t really crying in front of her if she was just on the phone, right?

“Gone?” There was a soft edge to her voice. “Gone how?”

“I don’t know where he is but- I- I don’t think he’s coming back.” He sat down on the couch, suddenly too tired to stand and talk at the same time. He wanted to run away, but he had nowhere to go. He wanted to break all of Dennis’s shit, but the only thing left was the letter. Most of all, he wanted Dennis to come back and lie to him some more. Instead, he stayed there on that couch and held the phone to his ear, waiting for his twin to talk.

“He can’t just _leave,”_ Dee said incredulously.

Mac found a bit of energy to go get another beer, but he stopped and leaned against the fridge. “He’s gone.”

Dee sighed on the other end, and in the silence he was acutely reminded that Dee cared about Dennis just as much if not more than Mac. She stayed on the line. As long as that dial tone didn’t come, Mac thought, then he wasn’t really alone. “Do you wanna come stay on my couch or something?” Dee asked. He stopped short, catching a glance of their- of his bed through the doorway. His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch he assumed was due to all the beer. He mumbled something non-binding into the phone. “Just don’t wake me up.” The call ended, and Mac started to gather his things. Dennis may have been a pretty good bulldozer but nothing would stop Mac from picking through the rubble. After one last look, he closed the door.


	2. Shiksa Goddess

Five Years Ago

 

_You, breaking the circle. You, taking the light. You, you are the story I should write._

 

Dennis had always been an appreciator of beauty. Nine times out of ten, the object he appreciated was himself. Why shouldn’t he? He worked hard to maintain every aspect of himself. Looking into the mirror and being satisfied was the best feeling in the world, no matter how little it seemed to happen to him. If he went through the motions it would be real eventually. Fake it ’til you make was a real thing, right? So, he spent time on his hair and makeup, he chose clothing deliberately, and he lingered in mirrors to give himself seductive glances.

Everything he tried was put to shame by Mac. Ever since he met the guy, Mac stared at him. He used to be annoyed by it. It took him a while to figure out exactly why he would look away when Dennis noticed. Mac was in love with him. And his gaze made Dennis feel the way he always wanted to feel - safe instead of helpless, wanted instead of ignored, enough instead of more than enough.

He kept all that inside for the time being, however. He was fine with just fooling around with Mac. It was convenient enough; they had their own apartment back so they had more than enough privacy. Plus, he was guaranteed not to get barged in on by Mac if he was having sex _with_ Mac. The problem was that they were taking _ages_ to get to anything besides hand stuff. Mac was nothing if not a hypocrite, but he (and Dennis) were fresh out of the closet, so he figured he’d wait a little while longer before making fun of him.

“Let’s have sex tonight.” Oh. Never mind. Mac was poking his head out from behind the shower curtain, nonchalant and soapy-haired.

Dennis let his toothbrush fall into the sink. “Have you ever had sex with a guy?”

Mac disappeared back into the shower. “I got a couple hand jobs at The Rainbow.”

Dennis went back to brushing. “That doesn’t count,” he said through a mouthful of toothpaste. “Have you ever done anything past what we’ve done together?”

There was a pause. “No.”

Dennis chuckled. "Baby, it’s gonna blow your tits off.”

—

He made Mac wait for him while he finished the necessary parts of his evening routine. He tried to just do the bare minimum and get on with it - Mac wouldn’t appreciate the extra attention to detail - but he stayed in the bathroom for a long time making sure every inch of his body was up to snuff. As satisfied as he could be, he made his way to the bedroom.

Mac was sitting on top of the covers, back ramrod straight, hands fidgeting in his lap. His hair was still a little wet. “Hey.”

Dennis laughed. “You doin’ alright there, bro?”

Mac sprung up and kissed him. They both had a little difficulty with the technique, smiling through it, but soon enough they were horizontal on the bed. Mac was straddling him and trailing kisses from his mouth to his neck. This was usually where he stopped, but then he sat up straight to take his shirt off. “You’re bottoming, right?”

Dennis rocketed right out of the moment. “Wh- you just _assume_ I’m gonna be the bottom?”

“Well, _c’mon,_ Den,” Mac said, unzipping his pants.

“First of all, we definitely should’ve talked about this beforehand,” Dennis said, trying to match Mac’s pace at undressing. “And second of all, _yes,_ but don’t you dare make a big deal out of it.”

“I’ll try,” Mac said, returning to his neck, and now there was nothing to separate them. Dennis found himself focusing on Mac’s arms around him. He’d been going to the gym more than usual lately, he’d noticed, and his embrace felt protective and strong. He definitely wasn’t focusing on his heart hammering in his chest, or the fact that Mac seemed _way_ less nervous than he was expecting him to be.

Mac stopped and retreated a few inches. “What?” Dennis said, not able to identify the look on Mac’s face.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He laughed. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

He grabbed Mac by the back of the head and kissed him hard. They crashed into each other, and Mac gave a little yelp of either pain or surprise. Usually Dennis didn’t like kissing during sex, but this time it gave him something to put some of this extra energy into. He threw himself into it, wrapped his arms around Mac’s back as he let him tuck his head back into his shoulder. Mac was talking, mumbling, saying Dennis’s name, and Dennis fell into a comfortable, familiar rhythm. All things considered, he could see himself keeping this thing they had going on for a while longer, Mac was pretty good-

“I love you.” The words being groaned into his ear hit him like a sucker punch, and he shoved Mac away. Everything seemed to stop; it was like hitting pause on one of his sex tapes except it was happening to him in the moment.

Mac was absolutely startled. His hair was flopped over onto his forehead, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “What? What’s wrong? Was that you coming?”

“No-“ Dennis started, then looked wildly around the room for some sort of explanation. “No, it’s cool, it’s fine.”

Mac looked as if he was being pulled in twelve different directions. “Are you okay? Is this okay for you?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever,” Dennis said, grabbing Mac roughly by the shoulders and pulling him back down.

“Are you sure?”

 _“Yes,_ goddammit,” Dennis hissed, grinding against him. Mac still looked a little thrown, but he complied. Dennis’s heart was still pounding, and he tried to use Mac’s body weight to suffocate the feeling. Maybe fifty pounds ago he could’ve done it, but it was no use now. The physical sensation wasn’t scrambling his brain like it usually did; it was like a lightning bolt that took a detour through his chest and his heart wasn’t big enough to hold the electricity.

He didn’t trust whatever his face was doing, so he shoved Mac’s head back onto his shoulder. _For the love of God,_ he said to himself, _don’t give him a reason to stop._ He clenched his jaw, and his grip on Mac’s shoulders was viselike, he felt like everything he was made of was collapsing-

“It’s okay.” Mac’s voice was soft in his ear this time. “I’m here. It’s okay.” He kept talking, and Dennis forced himself to focus on the words. Slowly but surely, he came back into himself and his heart felt full in an entirely new way. He was a lightning rod instead of burnt up ground.

Then, it was over. Mac rolled off him and they laid next to each other. Dennis looked over at him tentatively. He was staring up at the ceiling, wide-eyed, and a big goofy grin spreading across his features. Dennis felt a smile of his own, and no urge to jump out the window.

“That was _magical,”_ Mac gushed, his gaze turning to Dennis. “Do you-“ He stopped short, smile wiped from his face. “Dennis, you’re crying.”

Dennis brought his hand to his face and it came away wet. It was very possible he was just sweating, but Mac was still looking at him with those big doe eyes. Dennis had to think of something to say before he started asking questions because, honestly, he felt amazing. He took Mac’s hand in his own and said, “That was perfect.”

Mac’s face returned to the smile and he kissed Dennis again. He let Mac keep it light this time, and scooted closer to him when they broke apart. They laid there in companionable silence, and it didn’t take long for Mac to fall asleep. Dennis didn’t bemoan being stuck in bed with him like this, intertwined together. He watched his chest rise and fall. “I love you, too,” Dennis breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh so this was my first time writing a sex scene and I kept it purposely vague but I hope it wasn't too embarrassing.


	3. See I'm Smiling

Three Months Ago

 

_You, and you, and nothing but you! Miles and piles of you, pushing through windows and bursting through walls, en route to the sky…_

_And I…_

 

The competing smells of his two colognes were giving him a headache. So much for that plan. He’d have to win Dennis’s favor some other way. That is, if Dennis decided to show up.

The fact that Mac had to get a table by himself and wait was already a bad sign; usually Dennis needed to have control over where exactly they sat. He was at what Dennis had once described as the worst table in the restaurant, even after slipping a whole fiver into the waiter’s pocket. He wasn’t sure if everyone was actually staring at him, but he was self-conscious anyway. Who came to Guigino’s alone?

Finally, mercifully, he spotted Dennis walking towards him. He wore a suit and tie, but looked bedraggled. They both did these days, but Dennis was beginning to wear his 45 years around his eyes. Mac made a mental note that he could use that against him if he decided to fight dirty. Dennis stripped off his jacket and sat down heavily. “Alright, I’m here, you can stop texting me.”

“You’re late,” Mac said coolly.

“Whatever it is I’m late for better be worth my while.” He loosened his tie and made callous eye contact.

Mac rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re not even trying. This isn’t what all those articles said to do.” He stretched his lips into a tight grimace. “Look at me smiling. I’m _happy_ to see you. Can you just try for me?”

“Oh, come on, stop acting like you’re the relationship guru,” Dennis snapped. “You’re doing regional theatre and I’m writing books about-“

“About banging,” Mac said. “Dennis, _don’t_ do this.”

“I got the contract, by the way.” Dennis coasted along the conversation, and he didn’t seem to care if Mac could keep up or not. “I know you don’t care, but I got a three book deal. I’m still debating wether to include you or not, but just know there’ll be books.”

Mac shook his head and stared down at his napkin, clenching his fists under the tablecloth. He told himself, wait, just wait, just deal with the worst of it and everything will be fine. It always was. “Listen, Dennis, I know you’re not excited to see me play a tree, but the guy playing Tin Man got mono, and so now you’ll get to see me do more than throw apples-“ Dennis was staring at him with something other than disdain, and Mac stopped. Shit, he actually looked a little guilty. Mac set his jaw. “What?”

“I can’t stay,” he said. “Me and the guys have to work out the details, and I said I’d meet them in Atlantic City.”

Mac chewed the inside of his lip. Something was tightening inside his chest, suffocating any residual warm feeling he would’ve had just from Dennis bothering to show up. Quietly, forcefully, he said, “And you didn’t think to check in with me?” There was a horrible silence where he could feel actual remorse radiating off Dennis, but it wasn’t hitting him in the same spot it used to.

“No, I didn’t,” Dennis said. “Because I’m a grown man who shouldn’t have to ‘check in’ with anyone.”

Mac was surprised the point of air between them didn’t catch on fire. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like this, but their silence was broken by a waiter. “Okay, I’ve got two rum and cokes for your gentlemen,” he said, setting down a bubbly glass before both of them

“Oh, good, you ordered my drink for me,” Dennis said, voice dripping with malice. “Didn’t think to _check in_ and see what I actually wanted?”

Mac grabbed his glass and splashed the contents into Dennis’s face. His reaction was instantaneous, splashing Mac with his fair share of rum and coke and then throwing the empty glass at him, which hit the wall and shattered. They were on each other in seconds as the waiter backed up quickly. Mac had planted himself on top of Dennis; Dennis tried to choke him while Mac punched him again and again with varying accuracy. “You’re making a scene!” Dennis shouted.

“You look like an old bitch!” Mac yelled back. There were hands on his shoulders, pulling him back and onto his feet. He wheeled around and the waiter was in his face, ordering him to leave.

 _“Fuck_ you, Dennis!” If every eye in the restaurant wasn’t on him already, it was now as he stalked out the door with Dennis hot on his heels. Once they were outside, he faced him and cut across anything he could’ve had to say. “You could _stay!_ You could see my show! You could do _anything_ to make this better but you’re still choosing literally _anything_ over me!”

“I _have_ to go, Mac, I have no choice-!”

“Yes, you do!” Mac had been angry since the day he was born, but most of the time he was the one in charge of the feeling. This anger was uncontrollable, rare, and hopefully landed on Dennis and got some sort of reaction out of him. Dennis betrayed nothing but a few extra creases around his eyes. The temptation to punch him again was great but Mac roughly ran his hands through his hair instead, hoping Dennis appreciated how hard he was trying but knowing he didn’t. “You can stay with me instead of- of seeing whoever you’re fucking on the side-“

“You’re _crazy-“_

 _“No I’m not!”_ Mac’s voice was breaking but the words were stronger than his body. “You’re a selfish asshole, Dennis! You can’t care about anything thats not you or your stupid book!”

“If you keep screaming like this then you’re gonna get the cops called on you.” How could he be so calm? Maybe he _didn’t_ have feelings.

Mac laughed, a last ditch effort to keep from crying. He probably looked like a goddamned lunatic, but he _felt_ like a goddamned lunatic. “I love you,” he spat, and Dennis flinched. “A-and you can’t do anything but stand there and stare at me. Dennis, I’ll never understand you, but I _still_ love you.” He’d lost whatever little restraint he’d started with. Guigino’s could’ve exploded and he wouldn’t have noticed; his entire world had shrunk to Dennis and he was powerless to escape his orbit.

“I have to catch my bus.”

Whatever Mac was expecting - well, he had to be honest, this was exactly what he was expecting. The anger was gone and there was nothing to protect him from burning up. He let out a shaky huff, then ripped off his wedding band and aimed for the back of Dennis’s head. He stopped short, clutching the cold metal in his fist.

“Goddammit,” he choked. He slipped the ring into his pocket and started the long walk back to their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sad feelings chapter. Happier days to come, probably!


	4. Moving Too Fast

Four Years Ago

 

_My heart’s been stolen, my ego’s swollen, I just keep rollin’ along!_

 

“It’s _refreshing,_ honestly! I’m just glad it’s all out in the open and we can talk about it-“ Charlie started, leaning over the bar casually.

Dee cut him off. “No, I don’t wanna talk about my brother’s sex life anymore!” She turned to Mac pointedly. “I don’t _care_ who’s the top and who’s the bottom!”

Mac put his hands up defensively. “I just want there to be no misunderstandings! I want you to take one look at me and think, ‘that guy’s a top!’”

Dennis smacked him in the shoulder. “Stop!” He was starting to get a bit of a headache, and wondered if this counted as an office romance he could forbid everyone from talking about. Usually, he had no problem discussing his sexual exploits in great detail, but… eh, something about the object of his desires standing right next to him took the magic out of it. That, and the fact that the object of his desires thought it was important to announce that he was getting it up the ass on the regular. “Okay, everyone, settle down! Yes, Mac and I are banging.” Dee rolled her eyes and Mac smiled proudly. “But besides that, nothing has changed. We all still work together, the gang’s still together, everything’s going to go on exactly as it always has.”

The phone rang. Charlie answered before anyone else could grab it. “Paddy’s Pub.” His eyebrows raised, and kept getting higher as whoever it was spoke. “Oh. Wow. Alright, hold on.” He took the phone off his ear, then turned to Dennis. “Someone wants to publish your erotic memoirs, dude.”

—

Dennis wasn’t sure why all five of them had to come to the Liberty Valley Publishing office, but he supposed that was just the way they did things. Dennis was struck with how smartly furnished and downright _legitimate_ everything looked, but didn’t show it.

“Holy shit!” Charlie squeaked. “This is a real office!”

“I thought this was gonna be some kind of scam, but I think this could be a real thing, Dennis!” Dee’s eyes were wide, and Dennis geared up to shoot her down if she tried to glob onto this.

“Of _course,”_ Dennis said. “I wrote a _real_ book, after all. Now, everyone make sure you look nice, this is the room.”

As they walked into the office, Mac made to hold Dennis’s hand, but he stopped him abruptly. “Wait, Mac.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, no, it’s just…” He winced. “I need these publishers to think I’m this big time ladies man, and it kind of ruins my image to have a dude cuddling up to me.”

“Wh- so you’re just gonna pretend we’re not dating?” Mac whined.

“No, no, we’re dating.” He patted the side of Mac’s face reassuringly. “Pretend we’re not for today, though. Just until I get everything I can out of this guy. I’ll make it up to you!” He turned and walked into the office, willing Mac’s incredulous expression to change before he followed.

“Make sure to let me do all the talking,” Frank said, and Dennis made a sharp noise of protest.

“I’ll let you do no such thing! I put all the work into these memoirs,” he said. “I bedded these women, I wrote those words, I spent years editing and editing and sending them off to hundreds of publishers - this is _my_ book!”

“You got no business sense.” Frank punctuated his statement with a wet belch. “I know the lingo. Five of my shell corporations are publishing houses!”

“Frank, have you been eating rotten eggs?” Dee asked.

Frank glared back at her, then grumbled, “Fine, Dennis, but you’re gonna screw it up on your own, mark my words!”

“I think you’ll find I’m capable of navigating this on my own, Frank.”

“Good, ‘cause this is a _big_ deal,” Dee said. “This could be big for me, y’know?If my brother was a famous writer-“

“Dee, I will leap across these chairs and stuff my tie down your throat-“

“Alright, which threatening expression do you want me to hold?” Charlie piped up, presumably testing one out; he looked as if he were enjoying the smell of rotten eggs a little too much.

“Charlie, I want you to sit there and say nothing and not _look_ at the publisher,” Dennis said, waving a hand at him. “Guys, this is a very big opportunity for me!”

“For your image,” Mac said quietly.

“For- yeah, for my image, too,” Dennis said. “But not just that. This could really propel me upwards, where I’m meant to be. This is big for all of us, okay? Guys, I’m begging you, _please_ get your shit together _just_ for this meeting.”

As if on cue, a man in a suit walked into the office. “Is one of you Dennis Reynolds?”

Dennis smiled and got to his feet. He was about to play this guy like a goddamn guitar.

—

“Can you _believe_ this?” Dennis felt lighter than he ever had before. He washed the dishes, but his head was in the clouds. “I _knew_ it would happen for me eventually!”

“This is so awesome, dude!” Mac passed him a few plates. Their celebratory dinner with the gang was over, and for once they had hosted the shit out of a party. Charlie, Dee, and Frank had left their apartment happy, and he and Mac were enjoying the peaceful bliss of a happy home. Dennis thought this might be what a couple was actually supposed to feel like. “I didn’t even know you were editing your memoirs!”

“Yeah, just a little side project to keep busy,” Dennis said. “Fortune smiles upon those with talent, but I suppose I just needed a little help from an editor to let that talent shine through.”

“Hell yeah,” Mac affirmed. “Dude, I can’t wait to read the chapter about our first time! I don’t wanna brag, but I was pretty goddamn erotic-“

“Oh,” Dennis said. “Oh boy, Mac.” He tapped his fingers on the counter as Mac looked at him expectantly. “You’re not in the book.”

Mac looked stunned. “I’m not in the book?”

He grimaced. “… You’re not in the book.”

Mac was aghast, jaw hanging open. He’d even stopped handing him plates. _“How_ am I not in the book?”

“Dude, I finished the rewrites like a year ago,” Dennis said. “It’s nothing personal!”

Mac went quiet. He did this more often than before, Dennis noticed, now that they were an actual couple. A stark contrast to the shouting and threats he’d expected before. Mac prided himself on being an arbiter, a peacekeeper, but Dennis had never seen him successfully settle any dispute. It occurred to him then that Mac was actually _trying,_ and maybe it would do them both some good if Dennis tried back a little.

“So you’re saying I’d be in the book if you’d finished it later?” He was fiddling with his hands and Dennis _really_ wanted to say yes, but the truth was he didn’t know. Sex with Mac was great, at least better than anything he’d written about in his memoir, but he didn’t know if he wanted to unleash that experience upon the world. He’d even taken down the cameras after their first few times. Something about it felt too close to the chest, too personal.

“Yeah, of course, baby,” Dennis said, pulling him in close. “Best sex I ever had, bro. If I get a sequel deal, I’ll slip you in.”

Dennis planted a kiss on his forehead, and Mac looked sufficiently starry-eyed. “Alright, dude. Oh, but make sure I get to look it over first, I gotta make sure you’re writing me right. I have a very specific character to maintain.”

“Whatever you say, Mac.” Dennis went back to washing dishes, smile on his face, and Mac joined him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part of the fic where I ask you to suspend a little of your disbelief to pretend Dennis could ever get a book deal with his smut writing. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ People are horny. 
> 
> Frank eats rotten eggs because, much like a Hogwarts ghost, his sense of taste is starting to go.


	5. I'm a Part of That

Two and a Half Years Ago

 

_His eyes light up, and how can I complain? Yes, he’s insane, but look what he can do._

 

These parties never got any easier, but Mac was willing to strangle himself with a tie and drown himself in cologne any night just to hear Dennis introduce him as “my husband.” This, however, was the loudest party they’d been to so far; the flashing lights and strobing music seemed to drown out any of his thoughts. Mac couldn’t see how anyone could have fun surrounded by this bone-shaking noise and fake colors, but Dennis absolutely loved it. Whatever, it’s fine. It’s just one night. He’ll do it for him.

Before approaching the bar, Dennis halted and gave him the hundredth version of his pep talk. “Now, I need you to smile when anyone talks to you. Hold my hand. Look like you’re having fun. Alright?”

Mac nodded. “I know what to do, Den.” Why did Dennis get to decide everything? Maybe these publisher dudes would find Mac charming on his own. Hell, maybe he could get his _own_ book deal.

Dennis either didn’t catch his lack of enthusiasm or didn’t care, but either way he took his hand and in they went. It was even more unbearably loud the further in they ventured. Didn’t they both used to hate clubs?

“Mr. Reynolds!” One of the Liberty Valley publishing guys accosted them near the bar. “How are things?”

“Never better, Andy,” Dennis answered. “Hard at work on the next draft. Hopefully there’s a plan in the works for that?”

“It’s a very strong possibility,” Andy said. Mac thought he looked sort of like a guy who collected novelty shot glasses. “Let me buy you and your friend a drink.”

Dennis turned around as if noticing Mac for the first time. “Oh, this is my-“

“I’m his husband, Mac,” Mac said, shaking Andy’s hand and shooting him a winning smile.

“Oh!” Andy said. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t expect you to be with a man, what with the book and all.”

“Yes, yes, well, I’ve always thought it best to share your love with all sides of the spectrum,” Dennis answered. “Much like, uh, Freddie Mercury.”

“Uh, except Freddie was a total top, and Dennis is obviously a bottom,” Mac said, wanting to make sure Andy had a clear idea of what exactly was going on here.

“Um…” Andy looked a little confused. Mac looked to Dennis, who seemed mortified for some reason.

“Oh!” Mac said. “You’re confused because you didn’t read about me in the book. Let me explain-“

“No more explanation!” Dennis ordered. “We’ll have a drink, yes, that sounds-“

“Dennis, Andy obviously wants to know the whole story!” he said. If Dennis was gonna drag him to these parties, he needed to let him make conversation.

“No, that’s okay-“

“Shut up, Andy,” Mac said. “Look, bozo, the reason I’m not in the book is because he wrote it before we fell in love. But I’m totally goin’ in that sequel you were talking about, so gear up for our erotic memoir. It’s gonna blow his tits off, right Dennis?”

Mac snaked an arm around Dennis’s, but it was like grabbing onto a mannequin. Dennis smiled tightly and said, “Andy, could we have a moment alone?”

“Yes,” he said, and almost ran away.

Dennis rounded on Mac. “From now on, don’t talk. Let me do all the talking, because obviously you’re unable to conduct yourself successfully in a place like this.”

“Exc _use_ me, Dennis!” Mac said, eyebrows knitted in equal parts confusion and frustration. “I thought I was doing what you wanted!”

Dennis picked the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’m gonna go mingle. You’re free to join me, but only if you don’t say shit like that anymore. If not, I’ll meet you at the car when the party’s over. Okay?”

Dennis was gone without giving Mac a chance to answer. Whatever, fine. He was perfectly okay running up Dennis’s tab instead of talking to all these stuffed shirts. He planted himself on a bar stool and turned to the bartender. “I’ll take a beer.”

The bartender passed him a drink. “D’you think there _will_ be a sequel?” he asked. “That first book was amazing.”

Mac glared at him. Nobody at these parties was ever interested in what he had to say unless it was about Dennis. “I dunno, man. It all depends on me, I think. I’m totally his muse.”

“You’re his muse?” He chuckled. “Never heard of you.”

Something very bitter rose up in his chest and he glared at the bartender. “Get me another beer, asshole!”

It was a good couple of hours before he left that barstool. It was only when he retreated to the bathroom to rid himself of his umpteenth beer of the evening that he heard a familiar retching.

He knocked on the only closed stall door. “Dennis? Is that you?”

“Mac?” Gaspy, thick, and unmistakably Dennis. Mac’s heart rate spiked and he wrestled with the door, only to find it unlocked.

Dennis was on the ground, bent over the toilet. Mac wasn’t sure if it was the obnoxious lights - why would they need those in the bathroom? - but he looked paler than he ever thought was possible. His hair was sweaty and his skin clammy, knuckles paper white where he gripped the rim of the seat. His eyes, locked with Mac’s, were red and, there was no other word for it, _scary._ He didn’t want to look at him like this.

He flung himself down to Dennis’s level. “What-?”

“Took some pills,” Dennis mumbled taking deep breaths as he spoke. “I didn’t think-“ He gagged, and Mac ghosted a hand towards him. “I’ve done it before, I didn’t-“

His words were cut off with whatever he’d eaten that night, and Mac had to suppress a gag of his own. He put a hand on Dennis’s back, but Dennis elbowed him off.

“Don’t- I don’t need-“

“Dennis, we have to go to the hospital!” Mac was barreling towards an all-consuming panic. “You don’t know if y-“

_“No!”_ Dennis yelled, resting his forehead against the porcelain. He was sobbing, his body shaking and sweating. “I don’t- I don’t want this!”

This time, he didn’t try to shake Mac off when he pulled him into a tight embrace. Mac rubbed circles into his back, and tried to provide a little cushion from the unforgiving tiles. He would rather Dennis puke down the back of his shirt than drown in it on the floor. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine, you’re-“

“Y’know-“ Dennis was mumbling into his shoulder, and Mac fleetingly thought this was the longest Dennis had let him hold him in a while. He might’ve held on a bit tighter. “I wanted to be a veterinarian.”

“I remember.” He was still talking, muffled, and Mac responded to what he could catch. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

Dennis pulled away and leaned against the opposite wall of the stall. He looked fucking _rough_ still. The music was quieter in the bathroom, but Mac could still feel the bass in his chest and it was no wonder Dennis was throwing up, he felt like it too. He didn't know what kind of pills Dennis possible could have taken, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get Dennis to the hospital against his will.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you before.” This was familiar; Dennis only apologized when he was unhinged, words spilling out along with the tears. “I can’t fix this. I can’t do this.” Mac didn’t know what to say. He was sinking and Dennis was either a lifeline or an anchor, and he couldn’t tell which until he grabbed onto him.

He did anyway. Dennis’s arms wrapped around him, shaking and heaving. “I hate this, I hate this,” he droned.

Mac didn’t know which thing. “So do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These guys have got to get their shit together, damn.


	6. Shmuel Song

Three and a Half Years Ago

 

_Don’t you think that now’s a good time to be the ambitious freak you are? Say goodbye to wiping ashtrays at the bar!_

 

Dennis barreled into the bar. Mac and Charlie were behind the counter singing something from Beauty and the Beast, Dee was drinking a beer and making fun of them, and Frank was nowhere to be found. Dennis slammed a stack of papers down on the counter and they all looked up at him. “Everyone listen up! I have an announcement to make!”

Mac slammed a hand on the counter. “You heard him, everyone! Dennis has an-“ he stopped and turned. “Wait, you have an announcement?”

Dennis waited until they were all paying sufficient attention. “I quit the bar.”

A wave of confusion hit all three of them, and it was Charlie who spoke up. “You _quit_ the _bar?”_

“You can’t just quit!” Dee said shrilly. “You won’t be able to pay your rent, and you’re _not_ moving back in with me!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dennis said, flipping through his stack of paper. “My first royalty check is in. It’s enough to support me- hell, it’s enough to support all five of us! Although, I _won’t_ be,” he clarified. “So, I quit the bar. I’m gonna be a writer.”

“Holy shit!” Mac was flipping through the papers. “Everyone’s super into your book, dude! These reviews are great!”

“They are great, Mac, because my book is great.” He smirked, and felt like he was floating a couple inches above the rest of them. “Remember what I said about propelling upwards?”

“I can’t believe people actually read this shit,” Dee said, thumbing though a couple of the papers.

“Believe it sis. And maybe change your tone, because I’m giving you my shares.”

Dee’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and Charlie and Mac made loud protesting noises.

_“What?”_ Mac yelled.

“Objection! Objection!” Charlie shrieked.

“Ohhhh _shit!_ It’s about time!” Dee yelled.

“What the hell, Dennis?” Mac said.

He shrugged. “I’d rather had a Reynolds in charge of this place once Frank croaks,” he said. “Don’t fight this, guys! I’m firing on all cylinders, and my decisions all seem to be working lately, so just go with it, alright?”

“And also, my business savvy and Kennedy bone structure, right, Dennis?” Dee asked, smirking at the angry Mac and Charlie.

“Yeah, sure.” Dennis gathered his papers and smiled at them one last time. “Change is good, guys, you’ll realize that eventually. I’ve gotta go negotiate pay.”

He turned and walked out, hearing Charlie yell _“Bastard!”_ before he closed the door.

—

“C’mon, dude, we practiced for _hours,”_ Dennis said. “There’s no way you didn’t get something.”

“They’re calling _today,”_ Mac said, flinging himself dramatically onto their fancy new couch. “Any minute!”

“Well, at least you’ve got the late shift at the bar, that’ll take your mind off things if you don’t get the part,” Dennis offered. “Which you _will,_ I promise. If you don’t, just TP their theatre and try out somewhere else.”

“I’m just gonna call them.” His phone was out. “I’ll call them and tell them that if I don’t get the part then I’ll bash ‘em to pieces-“

“Mac, _no,”_ Dennis said. “Listen, hey-“ He sat down next to Mac, shoving his legs off the cushions. “Lemme tell you a quick story. To get your mind off things.”

“Oh, come _on,_ dude-“

He cleared his throat loudly and dropped Mac’s phone on the coffee table. “Once upon a time, there was this kid. He was really tough. One tough kid. He smoked a lot of weed, but that didn’t make him any less tough. In fact, it was through this weed that he met another kid, a very handsome and charming kid-“

“This is boring as shit, bro,” Mac interrupted.

“The tough kid and the handsome kid were inseparable from then on out,” Dennis continued. “But even though a lot of other people could tell how inseparable they were, they still didn’t realize it themselves.” Mac was quiet now. “The tough kid eventually grew up into a really… uh, _badass_ man. This man was so badass, he couldn’t admit to himself that he was afraid of a few things. One thing he was especially afraid of was that he would live his whole life without being totally honest with himself about what he wanted to do with his life.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then his friends found his dildo bike and tried to force him to come out of the closet,” Dennis said. “But even though that happened, the badass man _still_ made the decision to stay out on his own. It wasn’t too late for him, and he got what he wanted because he was brave enough to embrace it, even if it was scary.” Dennis smiled and opened his hands wide. “And he and the handsome guy lived happily ever after.”

Mac nodded. “That was a really nice story, Den,” he said. “Now, if we can get back to _my_ situation-“

“Wh- that was about _you!”_ Dennis hollered.

“That was about _me?”_ Mac, to Dennis’s disbelief, was shocked. “I don’t _have_ a dildo bike-“

“Oh, come on, _again_ with this?”

“The Ass-Pounder 4000 is an exercise apparatus-“

A loud buzzing brought their attention to the coffee table. Mac’s phone was ringing. He and Dennis locked eyes, and Dennis gave him a look that hopefully said, _answer the phone, badass._

“Hello? Yeah, it’s Mac.” He paused. After a second, his face lit up, and Dennis felt himself smile as well. “Yeah! No- yeah, that’s great! Awesome! Thanks, bro!” He hung up. “I’m a fork!”

Dennis felt like the metaphorical car he was in had slammed on the brakes and he was still barreling forward. “A fork?” The ecstatic look on Mac’s face was unwavering, so Dennis backpedaled a bit. “That’s… fantastic!”

“Not only that, I’m also the understudy for Gaston!”

“You’re not disappointed, then?” Dennis asked.

“Dude, why would I be disappointed? There’s just one person between me and the good role!” Mac explained, on his feet. “I’ll bide my time as a fork if that’s what I have to do. I’ll do whatever I need to!”

Dennis raised an eyebrow. “You realize you can’t harm the guy playing Gaston, or do anything illegal, without getting kicked out of the show?”

“Whatever, dude,” Mac said. “This is _great!”_ He pulled Dennis to his feet and kissed him all in one motion, and Dennis’s brain boggled just a bit. How could he be disappointed when Mac was so happy?

“Hey, how about we go out and celebrate tonight?” Dennis suggested. “How’s Dave and Buster’s sound?”

“Perfect!” Mac crossed the apartment at once, pulling on his coat. “I could go for some steak and ski-ball.”

Dennis stepped into his shoes, but before they left, Dennis felt something pull at his chest. He took Mac’s hand. “Hey… have I said lately that I, uh, love you?” The words seemed to fall from his lips and struggle to escape them at the same time.

Mac whirled around. “No,” he said. They stared at each other for a minute.

“Well, I do,” Dennis said. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

Mac smiled and mercifully didn’t push him any further. “Yeah, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I skip this song every time I listen to the soundtrack. Every time I'm in the mood for this song I just listen to Fiddler on the Roof instead.


	7. A Summer in Ohio

Three Years Ago

 

_Look at me, look at him, son of a bitch, I guess I’m doing something right!_

 

His prongs weren’t sharp enough, he thought, but other than that Mac was pretty sure he was the hottest fork in the whole company. They may have made him cover up his tattoos with sticky makeup, but the sleeveless costume more than made up for it. Mac was flexing in the mirror when a spoon named Tyler appeared beside him. “Okay, Mac, tonight when we cross each other during ‘Be Our Guest,” _all_ you have to do is run by me. Don’t try to _Dirty Dancing_ me again.”

“You just don’t appreciate improv, bro.”

“Whatever.” Tyler was one of the numerous twinks in the cutlery ensemble that made Mac feel like a bear. “So, got anyone special in the audience tonight?”

Mac’s heart jumped into his throat and he was almost pissed at Tyler for reminding him. “Yeah, all my friends from the bar are here. And my husband.” He _loved_ the way that new word felt in his mouth.

“Ohhh, the famous author?” Tyler smiled, eyebrows raised knowingly. “You think he’d sign my book?”

“Definitely.” Mac was just beginning to try stretching for the second time in his life when someone else appeared in the mirror behind him.

“Mac!” It was their director, and he had a bundle of fabric clenched in his fist. “Josh sprained his ankle.” He shoved the fabric at Mac’s chest.

“What?” He looked down at what he realized was a red tunic and black tights.

“Suit up, Gaston!” The director rushed away, shouting, “Ten minutes, everyone!”

“Oh, shit!” Mac’s head was spinning as he ripped off the fork costume, trying to think of a way to text Dennis and scrub off his silver face paint at the same time. He settled on texting him as they took places in the wings, while hopping from foot to foot and trying not to sweat too much. He was prepared enough, he told himself; being an understudy meant he had to be at the Gaston rehearsals and learn the lines, and he sang the songs to himself sometimes in the shower. He tried to run through the entire show in his head as he typed out his message: “I’m Gaston, bitch!!! Get ready to hide a boner!”

The short, stout dude playing Lafou was next to him suddenly, handing him a prop gun. “You know the blocking, right?”

“I’ll be fine!” He yelled over the overture, and took a few deep breaths.

“But you _know_ the blocking, _right?”_

Then it was their turn to go on. Everything was coming together, Mac thought. What were the odds? He’d have to find Josh after the show to sign his cast as thanks.

The first act commenced, and Lafou only shot him two or three out-of-character glares. He was convincing in pretending he was attracted to Belle (he’d been perfecting that act his whole life), and god _damn_ Gaston did a lot of singing, but he did his best to sing the notes in the right order.

Finally, the intermission. Mac may have been giving the best goddamned Gaston performance South Philadelphia had ever seen, but he was still sweating enough to drown a baby rhinoceros. He only paused on his way to the water fountain to return Tyler’s smile and check his phone. Dee had texted him “YOU SON OF A BITCH” and Charlie had sent him a jumble of thumbs up and clapping emojis. He smiled giddily, but paused at the lack of texts from Dennis. OH well, he must’ve wanted to congratulate him in person. He was horrible at texting, he reminded himself.

He really had to bust out his acting chops in the second act. Everyone clapped when Gaston’s death scene came along, so he could only assume he nailed it. The same went for his curtain call; he almost did a backflip to really get the crowd going but decided against it at the last minute.

He barreled out the stage door and almost collided with Charlie. “You didn’t tell us you were playing Gaston, dude!” Dee and Frank followed close behind, and Mac was surprised to see them smiling, too. Mac only sensed a bit of jealousy from Dee and Frank seemed happy despite the production being fully clothed.

“I gotta say, Mac, that was pretty good!” Dee said. “What happened? Did you poison the real Gaston or something?”

“No, no, guys! God broke his leg _for_ me because He knew it was important to me!” Mac ignored their collective groan. “He knew you guys were all coming tonight, so-“ He stopped short. “Where’s Dennis?”

Dee and Charlie looked at each other with something like pity, and Frank said, “The big shot asshole got a call from the publisher right as we were leaving. He had to go take care of some shit.”

Mac’s heart plummeted into his knees. He waited for any of them to offer any more information, but they didn’t. “What _shit_ did the have to take care of?”

Frank shrugged. “He told me he was gonna call you.”

Mac, jaw hanging open and an unpleasant buzzing behind his eyes, took out his phone. No new notifications, just the texts Charlie and Dee had sent him during intermission. “He didn’t.”

“Well, that ain’t my problem. We gonna go get drunk or what?”

Frank led the way and they started to exit the theatre, but Charlie hung back. “You wanna call him?” Mac felt frozen, but he nodded.

Dennis picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, dude!” Mac felt nauseating anger at the sound of his voice. “I was gonna call you but I figured the show started already. I had to go to the office to sign off on the new covers - Baby, you should’ve _seen_ what they were gonna go with before I-“

“What the hell are you talking about?” It hit him all at once. Dennis hadn’t seen him. John wouldn’t sprain his ankle twice, it was over, and Dennis hadn’t seen a thing.

“It was really last minute,” Dennis said. “I’ll come see the show next week, Mac! It’s the same show, right?”

He was at a complete loss for words. Sure, all the thoughts he wanted to convey were there, but he couldn’t figure out how to put the words in his mouth and say them through the phone. He settled for a, “I’ll see you when I get home,” and hung up without saying goodbye.

Charlie was still there. “What did he say?”

“Let’s go get drunk,” Mac said.

—

They ditched Dee and Frank and ended up at a bar far away from Paddy’s. Hanging out with Charlie alone was like going back in time, but always in a refreshing way. He was unreliable but that didn’t stop Mac from relying on him. So, he drank next to him until the disgusting buzzing in his head turned into nothing, and Charlie kept slurring about how this bar reminded him of the pub scene in his show. “Dude, this is just like- if we go bash dogs after this, that’s just like Gaston in the show,” he said. “Life imitates art, or some shit!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mac was usually happy-drunk after this much beer. He should be happy anyway, he decided. He barely saw Dennis these days, but when he _did_ see him, it was great. At least, it was fine. They were doing fine. “I can’t believe he didn’t show up.” His head was drooping to the counter, and he was afraid he would fall face first into his beer and drown if he wasn’t careful.

“Oh, man,” Charlie said. _“His_ loss, y’know? Maybe when you see him you can put on a one-man show, I’ll play the piano, that’s fine-“

“It’s not the same, bro,” Mac said. “He’s just- he’s not gonna get it. I thought he’d _try_ harder, y’know? We’re _married.”_

“That’s so _weird,_ dude.”

“I know! Everything’s-“ He hiccuped. “Everything’s changing! Sometimes I miss us all hanging out at the bar doin’ nothing - like, we didn’t bang or anything but it was still pretty sweet. I’m like, nostalgic.”

“Gross, dude,” Charlie said, almost facedown now. “I miss the old days, too. I miss how you were.”

Mac blinked hard. “How _I_ was? What d’you mean?”

“Y’know…” Charlie waved his hand around. “You used to not care what he thought of you.”

“Who?”

“Dennis, dude.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie waved his hand again, and Mac resisted the urge to smack it out of the air. “You’re so drunk bro.”

“Nahhh,” Charlie drawled. “You used to be happier.”

The nausea was back. “What are you trying to say?”

“You _know,”_ Charlie said, with enough effort to cut through both of their drunk hazes.

Mac stared back at him, the anger and what he realized was embarrassment rushing up to meet him. He stood up, knocking his bar stool backwards. “You don’t know _shit,_ Charlie!” he shouted, slamming his beer down on the counter.

_“I_ don’t know shit?” Charlie motioned to himself, then looked wildly around to the bar patrons who were staring at him. He sounded like an angry pelican. “I don’t know shit? Hey, everybody, I guess _I_ don’t know _shit!”_

“Shut the fuck up, Charlie!” Mac was halfway across the bar now. He had to leave, and not just because he sensed they were both about to be kicked out anyway. He heard Charlie call after him a couple times, but he couldn’t give less of a shit. He was happier than he’d ever been in his goddamn life, and god _damn_ anyone who tried to tell him he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to fall apart a little.


	8. The Next Ten Minutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the halfway point! This chapter is much longer because of that.

Three and a Half Years Ago

 

_I don’t know why people run, I don’t know why things fall through. I don’t know how anybody survives in this life without someone like you._

 

It was dusk in Philadelphia and the bar was considerably dead for a Tuesday. Mac had the night shift, as usual, by choice. Out of the four of them, he was strong enough to ward off any bad guys who might be lurking out there in the night. Dee’s arms would break like popsicle sticks, Charlie would get flattened, and he was pretty sure Frank had lied about his boxing career. Dennis was still here, though, even though he didn’t work here anymore. He’d said it was just to keep him company, but he’d been fidgeting around in his seat for the past hour and Mac was beginning to suspect he had an ulterior motive.

That didn’t stop him from talking, though. “Oscar is such a dick,” Mac said, wiping down the counter. “He thinks he’s hot shit because he was the second choice to understudy Elder McKinley on Broadway. Well, guess what, bitch? We’re all playing forks in Beauty and the Beast, so time to shut up, bro.”

“Sounds like a total jerk off,” Dennis agreed. “Hey… I think I might’ve left my phone in the back office. Can you go check for me?”

“The back office?” Mac said. “When was the last time you went-“

“Just go check,” Dennis insisted.

Mac complied, but not without looking over his shoulder as he went. He glanced around the room; nothing was out of place and there was no phone. He lingered for a second to make it seem like he’d looked harder, a little apprehensive. Maybe Dennis was hiding something.

He walked back in empty handed. “It’s not back there. D’you think it got stolen or something? I could call th-“ He stopped short. Dennis was on his knees, but not in the sexy way. In the _romantic_ way. “Dennis?”

“Mac, I’ve been thinking, and…” He finagled his hand into his pocket. “And I- I think- I think I’m ready to make this more… real.” He pulled out a tiny box, and Mac’s eyes widened. His pulse quickened and he took in the scene before him, disbelieving. This couldn’t be happening. This could never happen. “We can keep doing whatever we want - I can write, you can act, we can be at Paddy’s - I just want to do it with you. I want to stay with you.”

“Y-you’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Dennis affirmed shakily, opening the box. “Will you marry me?”

“Holy _shit.”_ He ran his hands through his hair, needing to grab onto something. He caught sight of the ring and did a double take. “Wait, is that Dee’s old cock ring?”

Dennis quickly looked into the box. “Ah, shit, it kinda looks like it, doesn’t it? We can return it and get a different one if you-“

“No,” Mac said firmly, grabbing Dennis’s hand and hoisting him to his feet. “It’s perfect. This is perfect. Holy _shit,_ this is perfect.” He took Dennis in his arms and kissed him.

“Is that a yes?” Dennis asked; he was delightfully jumpy and Mac couldn’t stop laughing but he also couldn’t stop kissing him. He felt weightless, like a stiff wind would carry him away, and Dennis was the only thing keeping him grounded. 

_“Yes,_ dude!” Mac wrapped his arms tighter around him, touched their foreheads together. He couldn’t get close enough, yet they were closer than they’d ever been.

—

They decided to get married in the bar, for a number of reasons. One was the cost, which would be nothing. Frank was also blacklisted from a good number of wedding venues in the city. But most of all, it just felt like the right thing to do. Paddy’s was dressed up as fancy as it could be. The floors were freshly swept, and they had set up rows of folding chairs in front of their improvised alter.

It was especially difficult to decide who should sit on which side of the aisle. They’d given up early in the planning process when they realized they didn’t have that many people attending, anyway. All they could scrape together were the gang, Mac’s mom, Cricket, and the usual barflies, plus Artemis who would be officiating.

“Is this really the best we could get?” Dennis said, peeking out from the back office. “I mean, couldn’t you get some of my book fans? Just to make me feel a little better?”

“Wouldn’t you rather have people here who actually care about you a little bit?” Dee asked. He looked at her with disdain; Mac had called dibs on Charlie as his best man, which left Dee as Dennis’s maid of honor. He was pissed at first, but as the moment of truth grew closer and he felt the annoyance replaced by unfiltered anxiety, he leaned on his sister.

He knew she would let him. “Do I look okay?”

“You look fine.”

_“Fine?”_

_“Amazing,”_ Dee said sharply. “Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, sure, Dee, get snippy with me. It’s not like I’m getting _married_ in a few minutes or anything.” He smoothed down his blazer. “I _knew_ I should’ve gone back to the tailor for this, they didn’t take in the sides the way I wanted. I forgot to get the buttons replaced, too. And would it have _killed_ you to match my tie a little better, Dee? Your dress looks bluer than anything I’m wearing, and if you’re trying to upstage me on my own goddamn wedding day then I’ll smack you right in the jaw-“

Dee’s hand was on his shoulder suddenly, and Dennis stopped talking. She had a sympathetic look on her face that any other day would have infuriated him, but today he just stared at her blankly and told her what he’d never tell anyone else. “I’m so fucking nervous.”

Dee squeezed his shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, I never thought in a million years you’d ever make it this far.”

“That- yeah, that makes me feel a little better, sort of.” He wrung his hands. “Defying expectations is just what I do.” Dennis took one more look at the bar, then shut the door. Before he could reconsider, he pulled Dee into a hug. “Thanks, sis.”

“Oh! Jeez-“ Dee patted his back. “Yeah, okay.”

Much too suddenly, Dennis was standing in front of their excessive rows of chairs, Dee by his side and Artemis facing him. “Looking’ foxy, sweet cheeks,” she said, and Dennis chose to ignore her. The next ten minutes happened very quickly.

Charlie, wearing a tuxedo, ran in through the men’s bathroom with a boombox on his shoulder. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he yelled to the ten or so guests. “Are you ready for a wedding?!” He bashed the play button, and the G. I. Joe theme song filled the air. Dennis wheeled around to gape at Dee, whose eyes were glued on Charlie. With a subtle glint of spray paint under his nose, he was punching the air with his free hand and shouting over the music, “Here he comes! Here he comes!” Mac followed, sprinting right to Charlie’s side and dancing along with him. Dennis was agog at his gleeful face and sleeveless tuxedo as he bickered with Charlie for a second.

“I’m gonna do it!” Mac insisted.

“Dude, you can’t-”

“I’m _completely_ capable of-“

“Mac, don’t-!”

But it was too late. Mac leapt down the aisle in what was unmistakably an attempt at a backflip. Before anyone could blink, he was facedown on the disgusting bar floor with a loud crash. “Oh _shit!”_ Frank yelled, barely audible over the blaring music. Mac got to his feet looking no worse for wear; in fact, he was still smiling. He ran the remaining five feet to Dennis’s side, very out of breath.

“Charlie, turn that shit off!” Dee yelled, and he complied, taking his place behind Mac. Mac took Dennis’s hands in the newfound silence, and Dennis hoped they didn’t feel too cold because he was absolutely frozen.

“Thank you for that, boys,” Artemis said. “My fellow Paddy’s patrons, we gather here today not just to mourn the death of a friendship, but to celebrate the birth of a union.” Dennis’s gaze was fixed on Mac’s shitty dragon tattoo. He read somewhere that you could get a better handle on your balance if you stared at something that didn’t move. “If you would please commence with the reading of your vows-“

“What are you talking about? That _was_ my vows,” Mac interrupted, still winded. “It was supposed to demonstrate how I’ll always keep Dennis safe, like G. I. Joe!”

Artemis grimaced. “You totally biffed the flip.”

Mac spread his hands wide in exasperation. “That was to showcase my resilience!”

Dennis was jolted back to reality by Mac’s hands leaving his own. His heart, pounding hard, felt full of something other than blood. “I’ll read mine.”

Mac beamed as Dennis took his notecards out of his pocket. With shaking hands, he began to read. “Mac, you’re not who I pictured for myself. Not even close. I’m not-“ He cleared his throat. “I’m not sure-“ There was an incessant prickling behind his eyes and his chest felt like it was in a vise. “But you’re- I-“ He swallowed and looked up to meet Mac’s eyes, and it was like a switch inside him flipped and he was sobbing. Mac hugged him immediately and Dennis was grateful for the shield from the eyes on him. He could feel him laughing, though, and he didn’t really care about anything else.

“Do you guys, like, want to get married or what?” Artemis asked.

“Yeah, we’re good, we’re good,” Dennis said, pulling away. He kept crying through the rest of the ceremony, even the long Catholic parts Mac had insisted upon, and only stopped to roar with laughter when Artemis asked if he would take Ronald McDonald to be his lawfully wedded husband. Mac glared at him, but Dennis saw tears in his eyes when Artemis asked if he would take Dennis. When their lips met, Charlie flipped the switch back on the boombox, and one of the crazier parties Paddy’s Pub had ever hosted commenced.

Dennis stepped outside when the environment began to rival their “Freedom Bar” scheme. It was feeling a little more packed than their measly gathering would indicate, and Cricket was starting to break out a few questionable drugs. The night air put him at ease, not that there was too much _to_ ease. For once, the world was spinning in the direction he wanted.

The door opened and out came Mac. Mac Reynolds. His hair was a mess, and there was glitter shining on his chest. “Hey! What’re you doin’ out here?”

“Just taking a breather,” he said, motioning for Mac to stand next to him. They joined hands. “Things are going a little off the rails in there, huh?”

Mac laughed a drunk little laugh. “Y’know what would be pretty cool?”

He was so close Dennis could tell what brand of beer was on his breath. “What?”

“Let’s go up to the roof and watch the sunrise,” Mac said. “I think there’s still a couple chairs up there from when me and Charlie faked our deaths.”

Dennis hummed. “I gotta say, that does sound pretty goddamn romantic.”

After an uncoordinated, drunk climb up the ladder, they found no folding chairs and presumed Cricket had scampered off with them, or Charlie had brought them into his Bad Room. They settled with laying on the ground, balling up their suit jackets to use as pillows. It would be a while before the sunrise, anyway, so this way they could look up and what few stars the Philadelphia lights left alone. It occurred to Dennis then that they could’ve been anywhere together, and the sky would be the same. He found this comforting in a way he couldn’t really explain, but with Mac pressed up against him it made sense.

“I was serious, just so you know.”

“What?” Dennis asked. Mac’s tone had been very soft.

“That I would keep you safe,” he said. Dennis couldn’t see him, on his back with his head on Mac’s shoulder, but he could feel a comfortable rumble every time Mac spoke and he hoped he wouldn’t stop if he didn’t respond. “Like G. I. Joe. Or, like, in a ‘feelings’ kind of way if that’s what you need. I know you had a lot of them back there at the alter.”

Dennis pulled away a couple inches to look at him. He took in everything he could - the hard roof beneath him, the summer air, the warm body against his, and Mac’s sincere eyes. So many things, but none of it felt like too much. Dennis reached into his pocket. “Let me read my vows.”

“Oh, dude, you don’t have to-“

“No,” Dennis said. “It’s only fair, right?” He cleared his throat and shuffled his notecards. “Mac, you’re not who I pictured for myself. At all. Not even close. And I can’t figure out why people run from things, or why neither of us have abandoned each other yet. Because things haven’t always been good. In fact, sometimes living with you is downright unbearable-“

“Does it get _nicer?”_ Mac interrupted. “You could totally be timing this with the sunrise.”

“Hold on!” Dennis ordered. “Most of all, I don’t know how anyone survives without someone like you.”

Mac blinked a few times, and settled back onto his makeshift pillow.

“Mac, I’ve never felt better than when you’re with me. You make me feel safe, and- and loved. You give me the courage to do almost anything, because I know that if I ever failed then you’d be there for me. And I know - I can _feel_ it - I know I need to be by your side.” He had to pause. “Mac, I love you.”

Mac’s eyes were wide and awed, and he laughed a bit shakily. “Wow, dude.” He squeezed Dennis’s hand. “Did you plagiarize that?”

Dennis shook his head, and a couple tears rolled down Mac’s cheeks. Dennis kissed him, then smirked. “Who’s crying now, bitch?”

“You dick,” Mac mumbled, scooting closer to him. Dennis settled into his arms, finally happy to spend the rest of his life there. They fell asleep before the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading.


	9. A Miracle Would Happen/When You Come Home to Me

Three Years Ago

 

_I don’t want to look whipped in front of this woman, which is dumb - I shouldn’t care what she thinks since I can’t fuck her anyway!_

 

He and Mac almost exclusively went to the Wawa across town these days, since it was the only place that had a specific brand of pretzels they liked. Every Saturday, they would walk in and split up. Dennis would grab snacks and Mac would take care of the drinks. Then, they’d head back to the apartment and marathon some action moves, _Predator_ sure to make an appearance. It was a routine unbroken for years despite anything else that happened to be going on in their lives, and especially in light of their marriage. Dennis had to ground himself every time he thought of himself as a married man, but in a different way than he’d had to with Maureen. It helped that nothing big had really changed between him and Mac; really, it was just a label. Change was good in small doses. He thought he’d heard that somewhere once.

“Do we like Dr. Pepper or diet Dr. Pepper?” Mac asked.

“I don’t know. Diet, whichever,” Dennis answered. “Hurry up, though, we gotta start these movies soon if I’m gonna get any sleep tonight.”

“Why’d you have to pick an 8am flight?” Mac started to walk towards the coolers. “You _knew_ I’d be the one driving you to the airport, bitch.”

Dennis smirked and meandered towards the snacks. Marriage went hand in hand with the amazing new life he was living. _Dennis Reynolds: An Erotic Life_ was climbing the bestseller list, something he often pretended hadn’t blindsided him. He was all over the place, doing book signings every other week and getting recognized in the streets. People were apparently itching for porn that was socially acceptable to read on the bus, and Dennis was happy to provide that, especially if it made him famous.

“Hey, are you Dennis Reynolds?”

Dennis looked up and almost dropped his bag of pretzels at the pair of breasts that had asked him his name. He squared his shoulders. “Uh, yes, yes I am.”

She smiled wide. “I just finished your book! It was _amazing,_ I couldn’t put it down!” She was short, young, and had blonde hair that hung down her back in a braid. “Do you think you’ll write another one?”

Dennis ran through how he would describe her, should she make an appearance in his memoirs. He rested an arm on the shelf near her elbow. “Oh, I bet I will. I have a wealth of experiences to draw from, so it’s only natural I do.”

_“Wow,_ you have such a way with words,” she said. Dennis smirked, and before he could think about it, he put his hand on her shoulder. She giggled, inching a bit closer.

Then Mac sidled up next to him and he crashed back down to earth. “Hey, you got the pretzels?”

Dennis snapped his hand back. Shit, was he Engaging her Physically? “Uh, yeah, got ‘em right here. Uh…?”

“Sarah,” the girl said.

“Sarah, this is my… husband, Mac.” He gestured to Mac without looking at him.

“Oh, wow,” Sarah said. “Um, nice meeting you, but I gotta run.” Dennis watched her as she went, honest to God trying to look anywhere but her ass.

He came back into his body when Mac took his hand. “She was weird, huh?”

“Yeah, weird.”

“Let’s go watch some _Predator,_ bro!”

—

He really, _really_ tried not to let it bother him, but the ease with which he had gone on autopilot had him on edge for the rest of the night. He thought he at least had control over his own thoughts, but maybe he didn’t. If Mac hadn’t shown up, what would’ve happened? God, he’d forgot Mac even _existed_ for a minute there. He looked over at Mac, who was eating handfuls of pretzels with his eyes glued to the screen with an intensity that was strange considering he’d seen this movie a million times. The winter sunlight glinted off his wedding band, and Dennis glanced down at his own. It felt heavy on his finger. It represented not just happiness and love, but complacency. It stared up at him and said, _this is it. Mac is enough for you, forever, or else._

“You okay?” Mac was looking at him. God, he’d even paused _Predator._ “It’s the right size, right? Mine’s perfect.”

“Oh.” Dennis fiddled with his ring. “No, it’s great.”

“Great,” Mac said, and pressed play. He leaned into Dennis, resting his head in the crook of his neck. Dennis tried not to stiffen, because really, what reason did he have to? But the longer they sat there the heavier Mac felt, and the more his chest threatened to explode. Jumping out the window seemed like a fantastic option, but he couldn’t place why. That’s self sabotaging, he told himself. Don’t be an idiot. It was just that the feeling was chasing him, hunting him down, and he had to feel it wether he wanted to or not.

He felt Mac sigh, then say almost lazily, “I love you.”He hoped Mac couldn’t tell his heart was beating too quickly, with no reasonable excuse. Dennis stared at him. From this point of view, he could only see his dark, gelled hair. He willed himself to answer.

Apparently he took a little too long, because Mac pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “I love you, too,” Dennis choked, and Mac beamed. They settled back into the couch, and Dennis felt the panic recede.

—

As much as Mac wanted to complain, Dennis knew he could’ve just left his car in one of those pay-by-the-day parking lots. They could afford it. Mac didn’t need to come along to the airport, and he definitely didn’t need to be the one driving. Other people driving made him nervous.

“I _know_ how to drive, dude,” Mac said. “And this way you can get a little shut-eye before you get on the plane. You won’t be able to sleep on the plane.”

“How do you know what I can do?” Dennis snapped.

He shrugged. “There’s like, turbulence. And what if someone falls asleep on you?” Dennis rolled his eyes. If someone fell asleep on him, he would expect a full refund of his ticket. “Point is, you should sleep now, bro,”

Dennis folded his arms and fell silent for the rest of the car ride, hoping Mac would just forget he was there. When they pulled up to the unloading zone, Mac jumped out of the car. Dennis followed, and saw Mac getting his bags for him like he was some kind of chauffeur.

“Alright, well…” Mac held his arms out. “I’ll see you in a few days.” They stood like that for a few more seconds, until Mac leaned forward and hugged him tightly. _Oh,_ Dennis thought. _Right._

He brought his hands up around Mac, who felt solid and strong, and broke away. Mac waved at him one last time as he got back into the car. Dennis watched him drive away. He guessed every married man had to deal with… whatever this was. Hell, he was probably just bored or something. He had the next few days to himself, and he knew he was civilized enough that he wouldn’t go chasing after every warm body that liked his book. The word was crawling with hot people, but that didn’t have to make Dennis love Mac any less. He would be fine. He _was_ fine. This was just a challenge he’d have to work on alone. Mac would never understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Dennis.


	10. Climbing Uphill

Three and a Half Years Ago

 

_Jesus Christ, I suck, I suck, I suck!_

 

The main room was large and cavernous, like the belly of a whale. It was almost like a church, Mac decided, and that put him at ease. Instead of worshipping God, here he was supposed to worship… Steven Sondheim? He was sure he’d heard that name before, and if he was going to be into theatre, he should probably figure out who that was.

In any case, the giant theatre felt a bit less intimidating if he thought of it like a Church of Musicals. Charlie tagging along also quelled his anxiety. Dee globbing on, however, did not.

“You gotta make sure you smile at the director,” Dee instructed. “Square your shoulders. Also, have you eaten anything today?”

“I’m not taking any of your advice, Dee,” he said, waving his hands in her face as if to physically shake her off. “I have an A, B, and C strike plan. I’m gonna introduce myself, say my monologue words, and get the part!”

“Yeah, what play is this?” Charlie asked, looking around like he owned the place.

“Dude, I've been talking about this for months!” Mac said, folding and unfolding the paper his monologue was printed on. “It’s Beauty and the Beast, and _I’ll_ be playing the part of Gaston.”

“Don’t forget your roots, bro,” Charlie said, taking a seat in one of the squishy theatre seats. “Put in a word for me as the guy who gave you your first role!”

“Why Gaston? Why not the lead?” Dee asked, sitting down next to Charlie.

“Well, first of all, because I’m good enough to get any part I want.” Mac drummed his fingers on his thigh, counted a couple of his breaths. “Second, the Beast’s more of a bear-type situation, whereas I’m more aligned with the otter side of things. Not to mention Gaston’s a total beefcake, who I’d be _honored_ to play.”

“Gaston’s a total _ladies_ man, though,” Charlie said.

“I interpret his character alternatively.”

“Why are you even doing this?” Dee asked, a bit of that stage-related anxiety playing across her face. “What, are you jealous of Dennis’s success or something?”

“No!” Mac said quickly. He sat on the arm of the seat in front of Charlie and started to glance over his monologue. “Musicals are badass, especially this one. Gaston gets to carry around a gun, and he hunts the Beast through the woods. That’s straight up manly.”

_“Yeah,_ but then he dies,” Charlie said.

_“Yeah,_ but you never see the body!” Mac retorted. “This is important to me, assholes! Can you just shut up and cheer for me when I’m done reading this shit?”

“That’s a _terrible_ choice for a monologue by the way,” Dee said. “It’s barely even a monologue, it’s more like a lecture.”

“It’s _important,_ Dee! They’re destroying the environment!” Mac yelled.

“They’re destroying the environment, Dee!” Charlie parroted.

“Neither of you gave a shit about the environment before you saw that stupid Steven Seagal movie!” Dee said. “That was a shit movie and this is gonna be a shit audition.”

“Mac McDonald?” The voice came from the front of the theatre. Mac sprinted to the stage at once, flashing a smile at the group of clean-cut people sitting in the first row of seats. There was a skinny man with curly hair, a woman wearing a blue sweater, and a bald man with glasses. The bald man held a clipboard, which he seemed to be reading off. “So, you’ll be trying out for the part of Gaston?”

“That’s right, here we go!” He unfolded the paper and began to read. “‘How many of you out there have heard of ‘alternate engines’ - engines that can run on anything from alcohol to garbage to water, or carburetors that can get hundreds of miles to the gallo-“

“Uh, wait, hold on,” the woman said, hand raised.

“What is happening?” the skinny man said.

“We’d actually like you to read off these lines.” The woman held a binder out to him.

Mac looked down at her, folding his monologue back in half. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Charlie giving him two thumbs up. “Oh. Whoops.” He stooped down to take the binder from the woman, stomach jumping a bit at the thought of reading lines he’d never seen before. He muddled through the scene, in which Gaston chided Belle about reading books and talked about how handsome he was. Thankfully, he was prepared to sing a few bars. He, Charlie, and the electric keyboard had made sure of that many times over. Then, the directors said they’d be in touch, and Mac was free to stumble off stage and back to Dee and Charlie.

“Mac, I gotta hand it to you, after they stopped you from doing that dumb monologue it really wasn’t that bad!” Dee smiled and elbowed him lightly yet sharply as they made their way out of the theatre.

“Yeah, it sucks Dennis couldn’t come!” Charlie said, clapping him on the back. “He would’ve really like it, I think.”

“Yeah, well,” Mac started, his bright smile waning as they walked to Dee’s car. “He needed some space to write today, it’s cool.” He tugged on the handle to Dee’s car impatiently. “Uh, thanks for coming with me.”

“I knew we could teach you a thing or two about acting,” Dee said with a grin in her voice. They climbed in, she started the car, and down the road they went.

With Dee driving and Charlie in the front seat, Mac began to space out rather than listen to their conversation. He tried not to overanalyze his audition, but his mind wandered and he couldn’t help himself. What if he got rejected and he had to go back to just working at the bar? And what about _Dennis?_ The thought of telling Dennis he wasn’t good enough to get into a regional production of Beauty and the Beast made his stomach do backflips.

Dennis had changed everything. Before him, Mac didn’t care if he died a penniless bartender. Now, with Dennis rocketing miles ahead of him, with recognition and a book deal and affirmation of his talent, what could he ever do to measure up? Dennis making enough money to support the both of them threw him for a loop, and reminded him of the suburbs experiment he never wanted to revisit. He couldn’t be the guy stuck at home all day waiting for Dennis to come home. He couldn’t wile away his entire life watching Dennis succeed while he poured shots at the bar. Dragging him down had never worked, but rising up to meet him seemed just as impossible.

He realized with a start that Dee had stopped the car in front of his apartment. He got out of the car without thanking her, and made his way up the stairs. His heart pounded as he opened the door. Dennis was on the couch, laptop open, papers strewn over the coffee table. Mac paused in the doorway for a second to watch him work before sitting down next to him. Dennis’s head snapped up. “Hey, dude. How’d it go?”

Mac took a deep breath and smiled. “It went great!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should look up that Steven Seagal monologue, it's pretty bad.


	11. If I Didn't Believe in You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I realized while I was editing that this chapter is just straight up unpleasant and depressing, so if you're not in the mood for that I'd come back to this one.

Half a Year Ago

 

_At some point down the line, don’t we get to relax, without some new tsuris to push me yet further from you?_

 

Dennis hated this, but this was just another regular night. Nothing he couldn’t get under control. But with every passing second he looked at Mac’s face, unable to catch his eye, he felt ice in his veins and lead in his stomach. Mac was going to ruin _everything_ if he didn’t get his tie around his neck and his ass out the door.

“I’m not going.” The immovable object was planted on the couch, wearing a scowl and yesterday’s sweatpants. “‘Cause it’s _pointless,_ Dennis. Nobody talks to me at these things or cares what I have to say, so what’s the _point?_ I’m not going!”

“Yes, you _are!”_ Dennis had long surpassed screeching. Usually this pitch forced Mac to do anything he needed him to do, but this was the first time in a long time it wasn’t working. “This party could mean the difference between a second book or no second book, and I won’t have you _ruining_ this for me!”

Like a slingshot, Mac was on his feet, violently displacing the bowl of popcorn that had been on his lap. “Ruin this for _you?”_ Good, Mac, get fucking angry. At least they were on the same page for once. “Nothing’s _ever_ ruined for you! You’ve got all of Philadelphia drooling over you because of your stupid memoirs, which are all about you fucking random chicks and I’m not mentioned _once!_ We’re fucking _married,_ Dennis-“

“I’ve explained this to you a thousand goddamn times,” Dennis said, forcing every syllable out with deliberate venom. “All the rewrites were done before we-“

“I don’t give a shit!” They were nose to nose, Mac was yelling and pointing, but Dennis set his face so he hopefully wouldn't give him anything to bounce off of. “You should’ve done another rewrite! Then maybe I could get a better role than a tree in The Wizard of Oz-“

Dennis laughed a short, high-pitched laugh. “Is that what this is about? Are you serious?”

Mac faltered. “I mean- Dennis, what am I _doing?_ What do you even want me to do?”

“I want you to support me!” Dennis said, raising his hands in a sort of peace offering. “Like a trophy husband!”

Four years ago, it might’ve been the right thing to say, but today it earned him a handful of popcorn to the face and an indignant “What the _fuck,_ Dennis?”

“That came out weird,” Dennis offered. “Mac… you’re doing fine, alright? You’re making this way more complicated than it needs to be. Can you stop trying to chop this up and analyze it and just _be_ with me?”

Mac was silent, but he didn’t look angry. There was noting for Dennis to latch onto, so he flailed.

“Wh-what’s _really_ wrong? What do you _really_ want?” Still, nothing. “Is it that you’re disappointed you don’t get better roles? You don’t like these parties? Which is it?”

Not only was Mac still not talking, he had turned his back on him. Somehow the back of his head pissed Dennis off more than the front. “Is this too hard for you?” Dennis was surpassing any conversation that was actually about the party and treading on dangerously uneven ground. But he was also on a single-lane highway to this party, and he needed Mac in the passenger seat holding his goddamn hand. “Mac, you are _dragging us down_ with this bullshit. Marriage is _supposed_ to be hard, okay? Y-you can’t keep me trapped in this little world I don’t want to be a part of anymore!”

He was starting to get deliriously angry again and he wished Mac would turn back around so he would have something tangible to yell at. He settled by trying to soften his tone, but the acidic anger still peeked through the cracks. “Look- Mac, of _course_ I think you have the potential to succeed. I always have.” Mac’s shoulders shook a little, and he crossed his arms, but he didn’t turn around. “Could I have married you if I didn’t? Could I have lived with you for almost two fucking decades? Could I have _loved_ you?”

His questions remained unanswered, so he saw red and closed the gap between them, grabbing Mac by the shoulders and spinning him around. “Will you _listen_ to me?!” He ignored the tears streaming down Mac’s face because Mac was _not_ going to get the upper hand by being emotional. “Why can’t we be happy?! Why can’t _you_ be happy when _I’m_ happy?!” He’d unlocked a new level of mania, which he couldn’t admire because everything about this was making him sick. “I _won’t_ fail for you, Mac, I can’t!”

At Mac’s predictable silence, they stayed stuck like that in the middle of their living room in a parody of an embrace. Dennis took a deep breath, staring into his wet eyes. “Mac, I want you to be with me at this party. Put on your tie and we’ll go. Okay? Can you do that for me? _Please?”_

Mac raised his arms and Dennis flinched, but all he did was throw Dennis’s arms off his shoulders. “What-?” Dennis started, but Mac was already tearing across the room, into the bathroom, and slamming the door shut. He heard the click of the lock, and he just about exploded.

_“Fine,_ Mac!” He ripped off his wedding back and threw it at the closed door. It ricocheted off the wood and was lost on the floor somewhere. “Stay here all night- fuck, stay here _forever_ for all I give a shit!” He hightailed it out the front door, sifting through excuses for why Mac wasn’t at the party. Fuck, they probably wouldn’t even ask about him. Mac was choosing to be an obstacle, Dennis told himself, but he obviously didn’t realize what an unstoppable force he was. Dennis was finally, certainly, peaking, and there was no way Mac couldn’t feel it.


	12. I Can Do Better Than That

Four and a Half Years Ago

 

_It feels like my life lead right to your side and will keep me there from now on._

 

Mac fiddled with the salt shaker, screwing and unscrewing it. Not that he was nervous, or some shit. Maybe a little uncomfortable, but he always had the situation under control. It was just that the dimmed lights of the cafe were totally inappropriate for the time of day it was. Any exit strategy would be severely impeded, not to mention the accuracy of ocular pat-downs totally compromised. He made a mental note to tell Dennis this when he came back with their coffees.

The very thought of Dennis made his heart jump. In a good way, he decided, and it felt so _good_ to decide that. It was strange how you could know a guy for two decades, then once you realize you’re gay, your perception of him completely changes. It wasn’t like Mac was looking for any long term commitments or God forbid _marriage,_ but something about the way they looked at each other nowadays made him feel amazing. He had to keep reminding himself that they were on a real date, not some regular coffee trip that Mac wished would snowball into something more. Hell, they were practically building snowmen at this point; they were long overdue for a first date.

“So?” Dennis said, sitting down across from him. He stumbled a bit as he scooted onto the tall chair, and their almost white coffees sloshed in their shallow, wide cups. “What do you think?”

“The coffees? They look a little pale to me,” Mac said, stirring his with a tiny spoon.

“They’re lattes,” Dennis said. “It’s classy. But- no, not the coffee. The coffee shop. What do you think of this place? It’s got five stars on Yelp.”

Mac shrugged and took a sip of his foamy coffee. He was forced to hold the cup with two hands, which _did_ feel pretty classy. “It’s nice. Kinda not really our style, though.”

The change in Dennis’s face was imperceptible, unless you were really really good at reading people like Mac was. “I dunno, I thought somewhere like this might be a little more… gay friendly than a dive bar.”

Mac’s eyebrows raised. “Are we gonna get gay right now?”

Dennis gave him a strange look, then glanced around the cafe for a second. “I just don’t want to get our asses kicked on a nice evening out.”

Mac scoffed. “I’ll protect you if anyone gets homophobic on us! You’re always safe as long as you’re with me.” He puffed his chest out. “No one expects a gay guy to be as tough as I am!”

Dennis laughed and took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, thank you, Mac.” He looked around the cafe again, a little less urgently this time. “This is… nice, right?”

He looked happy, peaceful. He used to only look like this when he was asleep, and to see this on his conscious face made Mac’s heart flutter. “Yeah, it’s really nice.” Then, he did something that felt bold even though they’d already banged a couple times - he reached across the table to hold Dennis’s hand. Immediately Dennis’s eyes snapped to their hands, then to Mac’s face for a tense moment. Then, he smiled.

Mac let out a breath. “I think-“ he started, then reconsidered. “I’m glad it’s not… too late. For either of us.”

Dennis took another sip (one-handedly, Mac noted with admiration), and Mac was worried for a second he might find an excuse to cut and run like he usually did when Mac wanted to talk about feelings. Instead, he puts his cup down and looks Mac in the eye with rare softness. “I’m glad, too.” He gave a short little laugh. “I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend without getting sick of them in a week.”

Mac almost fell off his chair. “Boyfriend?”

Dennis’s expression returned to the hard veneer he was more accustomed to. “I mean… D’you think…”

Mac gave a little squeeze to Dennis’s hand, a byproduct of the giddy laughter that had overtaken him. “You want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, asshole.” The words were blunt but his tone made Mac smile even harder.

The spell was broken when Mac saw the clock. “Shit, dude, we gotta get to Paddy’s.”

“Right,” Dennis said, collecting their cups. “Let’s just take care of these and go pay.”

Mac followed him to the dish tray, then stopped. “Wait, who pays when you’re gay?” They locked confused eyes, then sprinted out of the coffee shop as Mac mentally noted another place they couldn’t eat at for a while.

—

So far, life outside the closet was pretty sweet. The only thing that upset him when he thought about it for too long was how he could’ve come out sooner. He tried not to dwell on it for too long. When he was deciding wether or not to come out, most of his research was comprised of gay porn, but he looked up his fair share of questions, too. Most of all, he wanted to know what a relationship with a man would be like.

He got lots of answers. Every gay guy’s story about his husband and their love ached in his chest and weighed heavy on his mind. And he couldn’t think of anyone but Dennis. His feelings for Dennis had been the same for as long as he could remember, but he was just now realizing it was love.

Dennis, who was now holding his hand and walking with him down the streets of the city. Even a month ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of this. Hell, he didn’t think Dennis was capable of it. The idea that they could bring out the best in each other made Mac a little lightheaded - in a good way. That was another decision he could make.

They were coming up close to the bar now, and he regretfully let go of Dennis’s hand. He may have been ready to declare their relationship to the randoms of Philadelphia, but he wasn't ready for the gang to know yet. They lingered near the front door, in limbo. “Alright,” Dennis said. “Let’s go to work.”

Mac took Dennis’s face in his hands and gave him a quick kiss. Dennis laughed, a lovely sound. “What?” Mac asked, smiling.

“It’s just…” Dennis looked at the ground, then into Mac’s eyes. “I feel like… I could be in love with someone like you.” And, God, if anything was going to sweep Mac the fuck off his feet, that was it.

They squeezed each other’s hands for one last second, then crossed the threshold of Paddy’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... A very stark contrast to the last chapter. We're almost done, guys!


	13. Nobody Needs to Know

Three Months Ago

 

_All that I ask for is one little corner, one private room in the back of my heart._

 

This was the worst headache of the week, but Dennis wasn’t going to let that stop him. This was the closest he’d been to another human being in months. It wasn’t as bad as a crack headache, anyway, so what did he really have to complain about? His head was all over the place lately, but in this moment he was doing what he did best against the naked body intertwined with his, and nobody could ever take this away from him-

The door slammed open. “What the _fuck?!”_

The man launched himself off Dennis. Dennis grabbed a pillow to cover himself, trying to catch up with the quickly moving world around him. He sat up, trying to remember the guy’s name so he could say something to him, but came up blank.

Dee was shielding her eyes and shrieking at them both. “What are you doing here?! Get out! Get the fuck out!”

“This isn’t your house?” The guy was looking at Dennis now, with wide eyes, yanking his clothes back on. Dee was probably scaring the shit out of him, but Dennis was out of any reassuring words for him.

Dee shoved him into her living room and towards the door. “No! God _damn,_ get out!”

Dennis leaned his head back against Dee’s mattress. He heard a few more seconds of commotion, but his brain was still catching up and he didn't feel like he could move just yet. He hoped Dee would be so pissed that she would just leave him alone here to stare up at the ceiling, but he knew she would want to unleash her fury on him directly. Soon enough, she was back, and he sat up.

Dee threw his pants at him. “Get dressed.” She turned around to offer him privacy, but kept talking. “Who the hell was that in my bed, Dennis?”

He zipped up his pants and rolled his eyes. “Receptionist.”

Dee wheeled around. “From the publisher house?” He nodded. “So you’re jeopardizing your book deal because you’re _horny?_ In _my_ goddamn apartment? _Why?”_

“It’s not like I could do this in my own apartment, Dee!” Dennis said, forcing himself to match her anger.

“So this wasn’t the first time?!” Dee shrieked.

“Don’t be condescending to me, you bitch!” Dennis yelled back. He was dangerously close to pacing back and forth, but restrained himself.

“I’m not being _condescending,_ I would just you rather not bang random dudes in my apartment!”

“I can’t go back to mine,” Dennis said. “Mac wouldn’t get it!”

“Get what? That you’re cheating on him?” Dee crossed her arms and blasted him with an absolutely infuriating look.

Dennis sat down heavily on her bed. “It’s for my memoirs.” She raised her eyebrows. Dennis rolled his eyes again. “It is! How am I supposed to write another book if I’m only allowed to have sex with Mac?”

Dee threw her hands up. “See, this is exactly what I didn’t want! I don’t want to talk about your sex life anymore!” She turned to leave.

“Dee, wait!” She stopped at once. All Dennis had to do was make eye contact and she came to sit next to him, albeit reluctantly.

“What is _happening_ with you?”

He couldn’t answer the question, at least not honestly. Not for lack of trying. Fuck, if he knew what was going on he’d be able to fix it himself, right?

He started talking anyway. “Mac used to be happy. Like, he was completely okay with doing what I wanted. Anything I had to do, he was right next to me the whole way. Until he just… wasn’t. He’s just gotta _push_ me and _push_ me until things aren’t okay anymore!”

Dee pursed her lips. “You ever think maybe you’re the one who’s doing something wrong?”

“If you’re not going to give me real advice, you can just leave,” he snapped.

“It’s _my-“_ she began to scream, but cut herself off. She sighed. “Dennis, why’d you marry him?”

“Well, we spent every waking moment together,” he said. “And we lived together for over twenty years. And the sex was amazing-“

“Okay, okay,” Dee said. “And you _love_ him?”

Yes. Of course he did. He didn’t even need to think about it to know he was _still_ in love with Mac, even though another dude had been inside him less than ten minutes ago. Ever since he’d identified the feeling, all those years ago, it hadn’t changed. It was harder to grab onto, but it was still exactly the same. “I don’t know anymore, Dee,” he said quietly.

Dee sighed heavily. “Well, you should probably figure that out, right?” She stood up. “Okay, _my_ apartment. Time for me to be alone.”

Dennis stood. “Actually, I’m just gonna sleep on your couch. I need time to think.”

_“Dennis-“_ He was already in the living room, sliding Dee’s door shut on her.

—

It was only a matter of time, right? He had a few books to fill, anyway, and it only made sense to get as much experience as possible. Being a published author fulfilled the D of the D.E.N.N.I.S. System without him having to do any extra work, something he would’ve killed for when he was single. Really, nowadays it was more of a D.E.S. System; he no longer had the time or energy to pretend to emotionally connect with anyone.

Mac was a pit of quicksand, and Dennis had to self-preserve in spite of the shifting ground. The closer he got to their apartment, the more his stomach churned. Maybe this love had been hate all along. Maybe he’d made a huge mistake.

He opened the door slowly. The apartment seemed empty, but he checked the time. 5:22 in the morning. He creeped into the bedroom to affirm what he thought, that Mac was asleep. He slid into bed next to him, trying not to move the mattress too much. Dennis settled in for the next few hours, wether they be filled with sleep or not.

The body next to his shifted, and he froze. He really wasn’t ready to talk to him. Mac rolled over, his hand reaching out and brushing against his arm. Dennis felt like his skin was on fire as he looked down at Mac. He was still asleep, and Dennis noticed bruises on his face. He touched the ones on his own, looked down at his scratched knuckles. His chest burned and he tentatively touched Mac’s hand.

Breathing deep, he rolled over and Mac’s hand fell from his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That Dennis, he can't sustain anything healthy for too long.


	14. Goodbye Until Tomorrow/I Could Never Rescue You

Present Day

 

_All I could do was love you. God, I loved you so._

 

Dennis stormed from the bar, willing every one of his footfalls to crack the pavement beneath him, for it to splinter to the earth’s core and swallow him up in dirt and magma. How could Mac have just _stared_ at him like that and not say anything at all? How could he have let him leave? He counted on Mac seeing something between them worth salvaging, and if he couldn’t find anything then clearly Dennis was doomed.

He reached into his pocket and felt the folded up paper, knowing the words printed on it by heart at this point. He repeated them in his head like a mantra.

_Dear Mr. Reynolds,_

_It is on behalf of Liberty Valley Publishing that I must inform you that we have decided to sever our relationship with you. Unfortunately your conduct with our staff has been inappropriate and we can no longer justify-_

He began tearing it up, and it fell into tiny little pieces as he stalked along the sidewalk. He’d show them. Eventually, they’d realize what a huge mistake they’d made.

He stopped when he saw he was at his apartment door. When did he get here? Whatever, okay. He was home. Wrenching open the door, he didn’t bother to flip the lights on as he walked in. The walls were a bit closer than they were yesterday. He walked from room to room, taking in Mac’s towels on the bathroom floor, Mac’s script open on the kitchen table, Mac’s leftovers in the fridge, Mac’s DVD collection, Mac, Mac, _Mac, Mac, Mac -_

_“Goddammit!”_ His foot slammed against the door to Mac’s old bedroom, which flung against the wall with a long _bang._ It echoed as he was left to focus on the pain in his toes. He surveyed the room; after Dennis made him get rid of the dildo bike for good almost five years ago, they’d actually tried to turn this room into a tiny gym. It remained the only room in the apartment untouched by Dennis, for the most part. He breathed in deeply, and felt Mac’s presence in his mind more acutely than when they’d been face to face at the bar. Mac was all-encompassing, and Dennis was like a diseased tooth that should’ve been pulled a long time ago.

What could he possibly do for him now?

Mac was right about everything, as difficult as it was to admit. Dennis had the power deep inside him somewhere to make things right, or at least make them bearable. When he thought of existing like this for another ten, twenty, thirty years, he felt his heart get too big for his chest and he knew what it was like to be dying. Every kiss from Mac was like breathing in a mouthful of water. Mac _had_ to feel it too, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge it.

He didn’t really see this as Separating Entirely. He knew that was impossible. However distant they were, no matter where Dennis retreated to, Mac had an iron grip on his heart that would leave fingerprints for the rest of his life.

_Mac,_

_I’m sorry I had to do this, but you have to admit it’s not all on me this time. I could never give you everything you wanted. I can never make things easier. I did some inventory and took everything that was mine when we moved in together the first time. I closed the bank account. I can’t do this for a second longer and I don’t think you can either._

_I want you to know how hard I tried. I hope you felt loved at some point down the line._

_\- Dennis_

—

Five Years Ago

 

_I will keep waiting, I will be waiting for you._

 

“It doesn’t have to be anywhere special! Let’s just go to Dave and Buster’s-“

“No!” Dennis snapped. “I won’t have your lack of taste ruining this evening.” He stooped back over the laptop, and Mac smirked.

He’d really done it, he’d gracefully jumped over the hurdle of coming out of the closet. So what if he’d left a line of bent up, knocked over hurdles in his wake? The successful time was the one that counted. And having a _thing_ with Dennis Reynolds was just a bonus, like finding out your cross-country track trophy came with a free ice cream cone.

Speaking of ice cream, he would’ve been perfectly fine having their first date at a Dairy Queen if it meant Dennis would make up his mind. He was obsessed with finding the “perfect select” venue for their first date, as he called it. Mac didn’t really care where they went, but if it made Dennis happy to obsess over this, that was okay with him. “Why don’t we just go to Guigino’s? That’s pretty classy.”

“This is more important than any monthly dinner, Mac,” Dennis answered, and Mac smiled. “In any case, I found a place.”

Finally. “I hope it’s good,” Mac said, falling onto the couch next to him. It was a total blessing to have their old apartment back; it was just like the old days, with nobody getting in their space. Except it was an idealized version of the old days. Today, he could sling an arm around Dennis without being shot a weird look.

“It _will_ be.” Instead of shoving him off, Dennis could lean into the embrace. Mac was really enjoying this new, less self-conscious Dennis. He’d been waiting for the point in his life where things would fall into place and make sense - they’d _both_ been waiting for it, he thought. He couldn’t imagine going back to the life he’d been happy to live just weeks before.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?” Mac suggested.

Dennis started to nod, the winced. “Shit, I forgot. I’m opening the bar today.” He sagged into the couch.

Mac frowned back, leaning onto him heavily. He wanted nothing more than for Dennis to stay with him in this sunny, warm spot, but if Dennis missed another day this week he was pretty sure Frank would finally shoot him.

Dennis stood up, sighing. He stretched his arms above his head, and Mac stared at the shape of him in the afternoon light and started to understand why he called himself the Golden God. Dennis looked down at him and said, “We’ll watch something when I get back.”

Mac grinned and thought that maybe if he took a nap or something then the time would go by faster. “Okay, sounds good.”

Dennis lingered, and Mac knew he should really get going if he wanted to be on time. Still, he waited, drumming a hand on his pant leg. He looked back down at Mac, and they both smiled. Dennis sat back down, and his hands were soft on the sides of Mac’s face as he kissed him.

They were centimeters apart, and Mac’s hands came to rest on Dennis’s hips. He felt warm, solid. “Bye,” he whispered.

It took him a few seconds, but Dennis stood and made his way towards the door. Mac’s heart fluttered as he watched him go. “Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, ya'll! Thank you so much, those of you who commented/kudos'd!! I loved writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it even if it got a little angsty at times.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumblr at dirtfungus.tumblr.com. I talk a lot about iasip. 
> 
> Updates will come once every couple of days!


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